❰ the surprise of it all has initially subsided. information has been exchanged. questions have been asked. emil isn't sure where he stands in all of this, both emotionally and literally, but in both cases...nothing can be done about it now. maybe in hindsight, it was foolish to assume that being ripped from one world and put into another was bound to happen sooner or later; it happened once, so why not again?
a supernatural occurrence happening twice in both his lifetimes (having technically two is fleeting thought that he avoids with ease) isn't even what he cares about. his current stubbornness is that there is absolutely no way he could possibly go through emotionally detaching from one home and finding peace in another -- not again.
which explains his disconnected expression and very task-oriented attitude as he and his companion explore this strange, oddly whimsical place. to say there's nothing to be happy about would be incorrect: lalli is here, after all, and he could have easily been kept in some other corner of the universe instead...which is where everyone else he knows must be; one of the thorns in his side. he'd like to feel unhappy about it, but emil has long since learned that whatever world you're in, there's no higher up to speak to about the hand of fairness that you're dealt. ❱
They could at least give us lodging. Drop us off there, anyway. ❰ even if it was a similar situation to having multiple god houses that had to be returned to at night, that would be preferable to hoofing it along a path that's barely trodden, forestry sparse but growing dense as they move forward. there was some whispering about houses in the woods, and that's the first order of operations he basically commanded they work on: replacing their living quarters.
that's about as much as he'd like to talk about that for the time being.
with a slow but heavy sigh, his hands go from his side to being shoved deep into his pockets. after a moment he pulls another piece of stomped candy floss out of one and flicks it to the ground, disgusted. ❱ If these things exist, they better be livable.
❰ which really just means he's going to be really sad if wherever they end up doesn't include a washing machine. ❱
❰ there was no expectation emil had that life in...wherever this is, remembering the name isn't in his prerogative — regardless, he didn't think it would be at all enjoyable. the atmosphere, the ridiculous wildlife, the living accommodations...but the true root of the problem initially was that none of it was asgard, the most egregious crime it could commit.
the only remnant of asgard that was left was lalli, which was the most important thing that could have been brought along with him. initially, that was enough to at least inspire some kind of hope in him. even if asgard was a thing of the past, maybe things would work out. they could have found some way to make things better, whether it was work out a way back, recreate some semblance of what they had...emil wasn't immediately thrilled, but he wasn't totally depressed.
past that initial week or so, though, lalli was around less and less. for a while it felt somewhat natural. after all, lalli had just gone through his own locational upheaval, and that matters on a different level to a scout — emil doesn't necessarily get it, but scouting is an integral part of who lalli is, so it made sense. what he didn't expect, however, for the long stretches of disappearance to go for months. attempts to talk were short and brittle. when he wrote him messages while he was gone, emil would receive a response hours later, more blunt than usual (which is a feat).
if they were simply newer friends, if this was back in their original world, maybe it wouldn't sting this much. but — and it feels like maybe lalli has forgotten — they're in a relationship now. another matter in which emil had only vague expectations concerning; he knew that it wouldn't be a typical relationship, but maybe it's his own fault he didn't specify he would be put off by long, unspoken absences. emil has swung from sad, confused, frustrated, angry. now he's simply reached a point of having had enough.
typically he had a nighttime ritual for going to bed, but for some reason that night none of it felt right to do. he hadn't made some final determination to put a stop to this all that night for any specific reason. if anything, the buzzing in his head concerning it would have kept him up anyway. emil has previously been an expert in stewing in his feelings, but it only feels good when he has some way to eventually release it.
lalli eventually enters, somewhere to emil's right as he's sitting at their table, and the only small light sources are a few wall candles and a tiny ball of fire that is suspended in a glass to illuminate bored yet stressful doodles he's been making on loose sheets of paper. there are some half scribbled thoughts that he's various amounts of effort into, all scratched out — being scripted has never been his thing. ❱
Oh. There you are. ❰ it comes off more petty than he would truly like to be. his intention isn't to get into a fight, as frustrated as he is. emil's true desire is to fix this, as much as he feels like he has every right to feel left in the cold. he sighs long and hard, finally looking up from a large circle he's passed over and over again with a pen, long enough to create a few holes along its circumference. ❱
I think I've seen you maybe five or six times in about the same number of weeks.
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Sometime after Anya's post
[Yes, he may be
spammingspamming people to get to know them more.](no subject)
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( DAY ONE | action ) a stroll through reverein
a supernatural occurrence happening twice in both his lifetimes (having technically two is fleeting thought that he avoids with ease) isn't even what he cares about. his current stubbornness is that there is absolutely no way he could possibly go through emotionally detaching from one home and finding peace in another -- not again.
which explains his disconnected expression and very task-oriented attitude as he and his companion explore this strange, oddly whimsical place. to say there's nothing to be happy about would be incorrect: lalli is here, after all, and he could have easily been kept in some other corner of the universe instead...which is where everyone else he knows must be; one of the thorns in his side. he'd like to feel unhappy about it, but emil has long since learned that whatever world you're in, there's no higher up to speak to about the hand of fairness that you're dealt. ❱
They could at least give us lodging. Drop us off there, anyway. ❰ even if it was a similar situation to having multiple god houses that had to be returned to at night, that would be preferable to hoofing it along a path that's barely trodden, forestry sparse but growing dense as they move forward. there was some whispering about houses in the woods, and that's the first order of operations he basically commanded they work on: replacing their living quarters.
that's about as much as he'd like to talk about that for the time being.
with a slow but heavy sigh, his hands go from his side to being shoved deep into his pockets. after a moment he pulls another piece of stomped candy floss out of one and flicks it to the ground, disgusted. ❱ If these things exist, they better be livable.
❰ which really just means he's going to be really sad if wherever they end up doesn't include a washing machine. ❱
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( action — so early it might as well be night )
the only remnant of asgard that was left was lalli, which was the most important thing that could have been brought along with him. initially, that was enough to at least inspire some kind of hope in him. even if asgard was a thing of the past, maybe things would work out. they could have found some way to make things better, whether it was work out a way back, recreate some semblance of what they had...emil wasn't immediately thrilled, but he wasn't totally depressed.
past that initial week or so, though, lalli was around less and less. for a while it felt somewhat natural. after all, lalli had just gone through his own locational upheaval, and that matters on a different level to a scout — emil doesn't necessarily get it, but scouting is an integral part of who lalli is, so it made sense. what he didn't expect, however, for the long stretches of disappearance to go for months. attempts to talk were short and brittle. when he wrote him messages while he was gone, emil would receive a response hours later, more blunt than usual (which is a feat).
if they were simply newer friends, if this was back in their original world, maybe it wouldn't sting this much. but — and it feels like maybe lalli has forgotten — they're in a relationship now. another matter in which emil had only vague expectations concerning; he knew that it wouldn't be a typical relationship, but maybe it's his own fault he didn't specify he would be put off by long, unspoken absences. emil has swung from sad, confused, frustrated, angry. now he's simply reached a point of having had enough.
typically he had a nighttime ritual for going to bed, but for some reason that night none of it felt right to do. he hadn't made some final determination to put a stop to this all that night for any specific reason. if anything, the buzzing in his head concerning it would have kept him up anyway. emil has previously been an expert in stewing in his feelings, but it only feels good when he has some way to eventually release it.
lalli eventually enters, somewhere to emil's right as he's sitting at their table, and the only small light sources are a few wall candles and a tiny ball of fire that is suspended in a glass to illuminate bored yet stressful doodles he's been making on loose sheets of paper. there are some half scribbled thoughts that he's various amounts of effort into, all scratched out — being scripted has never been his thing. ❱
Oh. There you are. ❰ it comes off more petty than he would truly like to be. his intention isn't to get into a fight, as frustrated as he is. emil's true desire is to fix this, as much as he feels like he has every right to feel left in the cold. he sighs long and hard, finally looking up from a large circle he's passed over and over again with a pen, long enough to create a few holes along its circumference. ❱
I think I've seen you maybe five or six times in about the same number of weeks.